Head Over Feet
by Claire Starling
Summary: A month after Hannibal the Movie. Clarice gets a little depressed wow that's something new! and goes to a bar. Fate has some fun. Based on the Alanis Morisette song.


Clarice was tired. The FBI had kicked her out just a few weeks before because of the "Lecter incident". In fact, it had been at least a month since the whole escapade. She felt empty, for the longest time the FBI was all she had. Now she had nothing. The thing Clarice had worked the hardest for had dropped her like a hot potato because she did the right thing. Was she the only one who obeyed the rules of "Fidelity Bravery and Integrity"? She had worked so hard to get -  
  
** All the way to the F B I… **  
  
-after all, she knew that, as a woman, they'd be less anxious to accept her as a coworker. God, and the whole Hannibal Lecter thing at the beginning of her career. She found Buffalo Bill for crying out loud, if she were a man Jack Crawford would be running for his money. But Paul Krendlar just had to drip poison into her career…  
  
…and now she was unemployed. But she had an interview that Monday at a PI business that looked promising.  
  
But Hannibal Lecter still hovered over her title, over her head. When people saw her they didn't just see her, they saw him. They think she didn't hear the whispering as she walked into her supermarket or gas station… "Isn't she the one in love with that Cannibal guy?" and "That's the 'Bride of Cannibal'" and so on.  
  
** People will say we're in love **   
  
She felt claustrophobic in that one second. Hannibal Lecter seemed to be everywhere that one moment. She felt so very dizzy; she had to get out. "I need a drink," she murmured to herself as she subconsciously grabbed her car keys and her Jean jacket.   
  
She pulled into a new bar that had just opened three months before. Ardelia had told her it served good drinks and had bands playing in the back.   
  
Clarice had been there fifteen minutes and was ready to leave. The band that had been playing wouldn't stop playing crappy pop tunes or country love songs. Clarice was ready to fall asleep. A new band came on just before she was going to leave.  
  
She noticed that the band's name was "Crystal" and she was prepared to listen to another wannabe Backstreet Trash song.   
  
The lead singer came on. Her hair was long and red, the color of blood. Her eyes were clearly mismatched- one daytime blue- one blazing maroon. She appeared to be in her early twenty's. Her eyes were painted to match her metallic blue dress. Her red lips parted to sing,  
  
"I had no choice but to hear you  
You stated your case time and again  
I thought about it."  
  
The lyrics made Clarice pause to listen. It reminded her of her "relationship" with Dr. Lecter.  
  
"You treat me like I'm a princess  
I'm not used to liking that  
You ask how my day was."  
  
Clarice sat back, shocked. It was like this girl was reading her mind. Hannibal, as she liked to call him in her head, treated her like a goddess, like he had her up on some pedestal. No one had treated her with any sense of respect in the longest time; she was unused to the feeling. He was the only one that truly cared about her well being. And he loved her…  
  
"You've already won me over in spite of me  
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet  
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are  
I couldn't help it  
It's all your fault."  
  
"Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole  
You're so much braver than I give you credit for   
That's not lip service."  
  
… he loved her. He loved her in a way that she couldn't deny. It was everywhere, so potent. She always felt like it was in the air about her. And he was brave. All those times when he spoke to her. He risked being used in Baltimore. He risked being caught when he phoned her. He risked being caught when he wrote her the second time. He risked his heart when he told her he loved her. She hadn't treated him very well over the years. She didn't regret her words though. She thought that it was the first time the he misunderstood her.  
  
** Would you ever say to me stop, if you love me you'll stop?  
  
Not in a thousand years. **  
  
What she meant by that was that she wouldn't use his love as a cheap bargaining tool. She wasn't like that, she wasn't cheap like that. When he said  
  
** That's my girl **  
  
Did he understand?  
  
"You've already won me over in spite of me  
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet  
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are  
I couldn't help it  
It's all your fault."  
  
"You are the bearer of unconditional things  
You held your breath and the door for me  
Thanks for your patience."  
  
"He always gave me love- unconditionally," she thought. She never returned it or acknowledged it but he gave it. It a strange stalker kind of way but he did. He patiently waited for her.  
  
"He always waited," she thought. "For me to love him and care and admit it."  
  
He was always civil, as was she. He kept waiting- when would she soften a bit!?! She almost gave in… when he kissed her like that. In a way that just screamed, he loved her so very much…  
  
"You're the best listener that I've ever met  
You're my best friend  
Best friend with benefits  
What took me so long?"  
  
He always listened to her problems. Though he teased her and wheeled it out of her, she did feel better after speaking to him, to someone about her father's death, about the lambs. He was like a substitute best friend. He was more of a mentor than her father or Jack Crawford. He pushed her like no one else. And he loved her like no one else. And who was she kidding? She loved him too.  
  
"I love him," she whispered.  
  
"I've never felt this healthy before  
I've never wanted something rational  
I am aware now  
I am aware now."  
  
After saying this, Clarice felt like a hundred elephants had been lifted off her shoulders and her heart. She felt alive and free. A golden smile graced her face that had shown little happiness over the years. She never wanted to be common, even Dr. Lecter knew that. And she was in love with a cannibal, how irrational is that? She was aware of her feelings.  
  
"I love him," she said, a little louder this time. A female giggle freed itself from her throat. "I am aware now."  
  
Clarice sang along with the last verse.   
  
"You've already won me over in spite of me  
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet  
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are  
I couldn't help it  
It's all your fault."  
  
When the applause had died down and the band left the stage Clarice stood up and paid for her drinks. Before she left though, she wanted to talk to the singer of this band. Walking over to the young girl, she sat beside her.  
  
"Hi, I'm Clarice," she said, holding out her hand with a smile. She noticed that the girl smelled like peaches and roses.  
  
The girl's face lit up with a smile and she took Clarice's hand, "I know who you are. You're the one that solved the Buffalo Bill case when you were a trainee. It's an honor."  
  
"Why thank you, I don't remember the last time someone said that." She smiled. "I just wanted to ask you about your song."  
  
"Oh, 'Head Over Feet?'"  
  
"Yes, it was very beautiful and I just wanted to thank you. It made me realize something I was denying," Clarice said.  
  
"Ah, well that's what I'm here for. Whoever he is, go to him. Love only gives you so many second chances." The girl stood. "It was a honor." She started to walk away.  
  
"Wait," Clarice said. The girl turned. "I don't even know what your name is."  
  
She smiled, "It doesn't matter. Just follow your heart this time, Clarice. Hannibal loves you."  
  
Clarice smiled at the girl as she walked away. Then she realized the girl knew that she… she was about to call out to her again when she blinked.  
  
  
  
Wait.  
  
  
  
She was still in the bar. But the Backstreet Trash wannabes were still playing. She must have fallen asleep.   
  
As Clarice left the bar with a confused expression she muttered to herself, "My subconscious is getting weirder and weirder. What's next? A musical?"  
  
When Clarice got home, she didn't notice the maroon eyes watching her from her own living room.  
  
Just when Clarice started up the steps, she heard a voice, "Hello Clarice."  
  
"Dr. Lecter?" Clarice said as she traveled to the living room.   
  
"My dear, how have you been this past month?" He inquired.  
  
"Fi-" she paused. "Could be better."  
  
"You're improving," he smiled.  
  
"And how are you? And your hand?" Clarice winced a bit, recalling the memory.  
  
He raised his left hand. There was a small scar around the thumb area. "A little rusty but it will be as good as new in a few months."  
  
"I'm sorry," she said looking down.  
  
"Clarice," he said walking to her. Lifting her chin with two of his fingers, he held her eyes with his own. "It was my choice. If I had to do it all over again I would have done the same thing."  
  
"Why are you here?" she asked quietly.  
  
He stepped back. "To give you, Clarice, one last chance. You and I both know that our games have got to end. You can come with me or never hear from me again. And I mean never. Even if you wrote in big bold letters in every newspaper that you changed your mind I wouldn't come back."  
  
She nodded and thought about what the girl in her dreams said.  
  
** Love only gives you so many second chances. **  
  
** Follow your heart this time, Clarice. Hannibal loves you. **  
  
She remembered her realization. She remembered how much she loved him. How this is her last chance… her only chance.  
  
"Are you thinking of a way to arrest me, Former Special Agent Starling, without me noticing?" He mocked.  
  
She simply shook her head. "No, just thinking about how much I love you."  
  
Hannibal's face softened immediately, "Oh, Clarice."  
  
"Hannibal?" she asked hesitantly.  
  
"Yes?" he smiled.  
  
"I love you."  
  
He took her into his embrace; "I've waited along time to hear you say that, Clarice. I was starting to think I never would. And Clarice?"  
  
"Yes?" she said, focusing on his lips.  
  
"I love you too."  
  
She smiled, "Can we live happily ever after now?"  
  
He smiled and kissed her.  
  
  
Hannibal and Clarice had one child, a girl. Her hair was blood red and she had mismatched eyes: one daytime blue, one blazing maroon. And no matter where she went or how old she got, she always smelled like peaches and roses. They called her Crystal Michelle.   
  
And they lived happily ever after.  
  
The Beginning. 


End file.
